What Should Have Happened...

He should totally look like a lavuk, but Sanem had yet to discover when he looked bad. The creator must have a sense of humor and was laughing down at her this very moment. Someone had probably been laughing down at her since the moment she met Can Divit.

He is every secret fantasy you've ever had come to life. He won't just be the most beautiful man ever created, he'll also be kind and caring and wonderful in almost every way...but there's a catch...you can never have him.

Can continued to hold the bandana over his head, smirking. "Per favore, per favore, Sanem. If you want it, take it."

Sanem huffed and crossed her arms over her chest. "You always try to get the best of me. You're always playing with me," she muttered, tapping her foot in irritation.

He was so tall! Why did have he to be so tall, and why couldn't she stop thinking of how perfectly she fit in his arms and how her head nestled against his chest and his clavicles? Stupid beautiful clavicles and forearms she wanted to bite. She even liked the way he sipped his cay with his pinky out and it was totally ridiculous. Last week she'd even seen one of the interns trying to copy him, finger crooked, before everyone noticed and started snickering. They'd made such fun of him that he'd ran to hide in the toilet, but Sanem had only felt sorry for the kid. If anyone understood an unrequited crush, it was Sanem.

"Sanem," Can taunted her again while motioning with his free hand.

It would be too obvious to jump and strain for the prize. He'd be expecting that. Entirely predictable and she was too short to win without making a fool of herself again. Sanem began to circle him slowly, contemplating the best angle of attack, but the best angle was giving her a peek at his backside, which was not at all ridiculous.

Oooofff, she couldn't let him and his gorgeous body parts distract her.

With narrowed eyes, she attacked too quickly, lunging and poking him in his side hoping for the element of surprise. He didn't even flinch, just had the audacity to wink at her and grin.

"Do better, Sanem." He just loved toying with her, only her, and seemed to reserve his strange sense of humor for messing with her.

"Oh, I will, Can Bey. I will." For good measure, she poked him again harder to show her aggravation. All she succeeded in doing was making herself wince and probably bruising her fingers. He wasn't real. He couldn't be real. No one had muscles in the places he had muscles.

This was war and she was determined to win just once.

One hand went for the bandana,while her left fluttered up and down his left side, trying to tickle him. Within seconds, it was obvious she'd made a mistake, and Can had her pressed up against the file cabinets before she could even blink, boxing her in with his massive forearms. She let out a squeak and slammed her eyes shut.

If she couldn't see him, he couldn't affect her, or so she tried to convince herself. But with her eyes closed a running movie of all the times he'd made her forget herself. There was the time he'd bandaged her knee and she knew she was already in too deep. Every time he brushed her hair from her face and an electric current singed her. When he'd comforted her after Deren's dismissal of all her hard work in the relaxation room. How could she forget the night at the cabin and how he'd held her as they'd danced? It seemed so long ago she'd believed his brother's lies and ignored the goodness in him. Now it was too late. He actually thought she'd gotten in the car with that prick Levant, who was just a pale imitation, a hobbit in a blue suit with sweaty grabby hands.

Can's voice dropped so low that her toes curled in her sneakers. "Look at me, Sanem."

"No, Can Bey." All she could manage was a near stutter, not forceful at all. Just once, she wanted to not be so transparent. Just once she wished he wasn't playing with her and that he felt one iota of longing she felt for him.

The tips of his fingers trailed down her cheek, skirting the corner of her mouth and it was all she could do not to whimper.

"Are you ever going to stop calling me Bey?" Now he was teasing her, amusement apparent in his voice. Sometimes she understood him better than she knew herself, others she thought she might spend a 100 years and never really know him like she wanted to.

She shook her head quickly. "No, Can Bey."

His breath caressed her face. He even smelled amazing and she couldn't help but but inhale deeply and wonder about the unfairness of it all. He had to have some kind of flaw.

"Why not, Sanem?"

She finally opened her eyes. He was so close, that delicious mouth quirked, and eyes all knowing.

He was always so close, inspiring the most all consuming ache and she'd began to crave it, the push and pull of want even if she knew she'd suffer later. If given the choice, would she want to forget him and the pain that he could never be hers? The answer would always be no.

It took three tries clearing her throat but she was finally able speak in a somewhat normal voice and stand up a little straighter. "It wouldn't be proper, Can Bey. You're my boss." And her heart, but she could never tell him. He was the dark king who'd somehow become her beautiful prince, equal parts heartache and exhilaration. Ayhan kept saying she'd be ok; she'd move on; she'd love someone else. It was never more apparent that wouldn't be possible than when he was in front of her like this. She could forgot the rest of the world existed and there were no lies, so scheming snake Emre, or gorgeous brilliant Polen who Sanem was trying really hard to hate.

"How can you be so sweet and so stubborn at the same time?" he mused, suddenly serious, moving even closer until they were sharing the same breath. Well, he was breathing, but as usual Sanem forget even the most basic of human functions around him. The only thing that helped get her racing heart under control was thinking of the most disgusting thing possible. Of course, that was Zebercet, but even the thought of marrying Zebercet couldn't make her look away from his lips or keep her from swaying a little closer like a flower seeking the sun. Can's eyes tracked the movement, becoming heavy lidded. The tips of their shoes touched, Sanem's sneaker resting a little on top of his boots. She had press her palms flat to the cabinets behind her to not reach for him.

Sanem began to forgot all about the bandana as Can's head slowly tilted to the side and he started to lower his arms slowly from the cage around her.

"All of the women in my family are this way. You've met my mother," she whispered, needing the support behind her to keep standing.

Can answered without ever taking his gaze away from her mouth, his voice just as hushed. "But I've never met anyone like you, Sanem."

Sanem tried to speak,to say anything, but lost the power again when he dipped his cheek close enough that his beard tickled her.

"If you want it then take it, Sanem," he softly growled into her ear and she knew this time he wasn't talking about the scarf.